What's Wrong With Uncle Michael?
by kevin the bird
Summary: "What's wrong with Uncle Michael?" Charlie asked, moving his head from the crook of his grandmother's shoulder so he was looking up at her. "I don't know, sweetheart," Madeline said. Even if she did know, she wouldn't tell her grandson in fear that it might scare him. Charlie moved his head back and nudged Madeline's chest sleepily.


Michael had never been drugged quite like he had been during the past few days. It was nerve racking not being able to remember periods of your life, especially when you're a trained operative. But when it was all over, all he wanted to do was go home to his childhood home. Sure, he knew that his mother would ask way too many questions, but it's all he wanted.

When Sam dropped him off in front of Madeline's house, he stumbled up to the front door and opened it. The first thing that he saw was Charlie playing with his dinosaurs. He stumbled through the door and closed it behind him.

"Hey, Charlie," he said as he smiled at his three-year-old-nephew. He tried his best not to look like how he felt, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to pull it off. Luckily, Charlie wasn't old enough to realize that he had just been drugged for a couple of days.

"Hi, Uncle Michael," Charlie replied as he looked up from his dinosaurs.

"Where's Grandma?" Michael asked as he stumbled further into the house, trying to stabilize himself. He grabbed onto a kitchen chair before he fell.

"In the garage," Charlie replied. He was too involved with his toys to realize that Michael looked like he had been through hell and back.

"Can you go get her for me?" Michael asked, trying to stay standing up. The last place he wanted to be was sitting in a kitchen chair. Charlie nodded his head, got up and went to the garage. Shortly after, he came strolling back into the kitchen with his grandmother following close behind.

"Michael!" is all that was heard before Madeline rushed towards her son. Michael collapsed into his mother's arms. She guided Michael over to the couch and helped him carefully sit down.

"I'm fine, Ma," Michael said, trying to stop his mother from overreacting.

"To hell you are," Madeline replied. She looked over at Charlie, who went back to playing with his dinosaurs. "I'm going to put Charlie down for his nap, sweetheart," she said. "I'll be right back." Madeline walked over to Charlie and told him that it was time for his nap. He put up a fight, like most three-year-olds, and then he took Madeline's hand, which was outstretched, and led him to his bedroom. When she got her grandson down for his nap, Madeline walked back into the room her son was in. She had never seen him quite like he looked at that moment. Sure, his father had beaten him quite a bit when he was younger, but it didn't compare to what he looked like now. Michael noticed the look on her face when she walked over to him and took a seat on the couch he was sitting on.

"Really, Ma, I'm fine," he said. He was trying to convince himself more than his mother. He didn't want to look weak, especially in front of his mother.

"Stop it, Michael," Madeline said with her usual conviction. She knew her son. Better than he realized and she knew he was far from okay. Madeline moved a strand of hair out of Michael's eyes before resting her hand on his cheek and softly rubbing it with her thumb. He leaned into it and closed his eyes. He was on the brink of sleep and Madeline noticed it, so she tried to move, but Michael didn't allow her to.

"Stay, Ma," he said softly. Madeline's heart broke. She saw the struggle in his eyes when they opened. He didn't want to seem weak in front of her, but he needed that love that he hadn't gotten very much of as a child. She scooted her entire body so she was resting against the back of the couch. Michael rested his head in her lap and closed his eyes while he moved around on the couch so he was curled up in a little ball. Madeline ran her fingers through her son's hair. She started to think about everything her son had gone through that she didn't know about. She got so far into her own thoughts that she didn't hear Charlie come out of his room or feel him climb up on the couch until he cuddled close to her. She looked down at the three-year-old who had cuddled into her body. She moved her arm and draped it around his small body.

"What's wrong with Uncle Michael?" Charlie asked, moving his head from the crook of his grandmother's shoulder so he was looking up at her.

"I don't know, sweetheart," Madeline said. Even if she did know, she wouldn't tell her grandson in fear that it might scare him. Charlie moved his head back and nudged Madeline's chest sleepily. "Get some sleep, baby," Madeline added as she kissed Charlie's head lovingly.

"I want to stay awake so I can be up when Uncle Michael wakes up," Charlie said sleepily. He idolized his uncle, just like his father had. Madeline smiled sadly at the resemblance of her grandson and son. Madeline knew that in a matter of minutes, Charlie would be asleep, so she agreed, knowing he would fall asleep.

"Okay, you can stay up," she said softly. She started rubbing Charlie's back comfortingly, which pushed Charlie even closer to sleep. Charlie moved his arm so it was resting against his grandmother's stomach and chest and stuck his thumb into his mouth. He didn't suck his thumb very often anymore. Madeline had managed to wean him of the habit, but occasionally, when he was tired or he was in a stressful situation, he would suck his thumb. Madeline watched Charlie as his eyes started to droop and continued to rub his back comfortingly. His breathing was starting to slow down and she knew he was on the verge of sleep. She kissed him on top of his head again.

"I love you, Charlie," she said softly. Charlie moved around in his sleep so he was cuddled as close as he could with his grandmother. Madeline smiled when he moved so he was comfortably cuddled as could as he could get. She didn't mind the cuddling, from either one of her boys. That's when Madeline looked at her eldest son, who was also fast asleep. He looked worse than she had ever seen him. She knew that he wouldn't get very many questions out of him, but it didn't make it any more bearable. She ran her fingers through his hair again, happy to her boys with her.


End file.
